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Something with a Twist If the relationship between a waiter and a diner ultimately boils down to a subtle game of one-upmanship, it is surely the waiter who commands the strong opening move. He or she simply asks, “Would you like something from the bar?” Easy enough to answer, “Why yes, I would like something from the bar.” Not so easy to come up with a drink that does justice to the occasion and truly promotes the enjoyment of food. All too often, imagination fails, and the waiter is sent off to fetch a glass of house red or white. There
is a better way. An aperitif should, like the spirit, perk up the appetite and
generally prime the senses for the gustatory work out ahead. That, for me is the
very definition of champagne, so it is hardly surprising that the spiffier
aperitifs are build around sparkling wine. French champagne straight up is
always right, but in a restaurant at $20.00 a pop and that’s if it is
available at all, less expensive alternatives are always welcome. If the house
sparkler is a cheaper alternative, and it usually always is, a bit of modest
tinkering can yield good results. A dash of this or that – Pimm’s for
example, can disguise its shortcomings. Serious restaurants often make a point
of offering innovative champagne cocktails. One favorite is Cointreau and
franboise topped up with champagne. A dash of Grand Marnier and apricot liqueur
with a twist of lemon is another favorite. In New York, I once had a cocktail
that began with a large splash of Campari and a dash of gin followed by two
parts champagne to one part orange juice with a twist of lemon and orange. The
resulting pink grapefruit coloured pillar takes on a beautiful matte finish as
the outside of the flute fogs over. Less
can be more. A chilled fino sherry or manzanilla makes an ideal aperitif,
especially if seafood is on the agenda. Instead of the usual prepared white
aperitifs, try a white port on the rocks with a twist of lemon. White port is
made the same way as the purple stuff except that only white grapes are used.
Traditionally, it is sweet or semi-sweet, but makers have begun to ferment out
more of the residual sugar for a direr result. For
a leaner alternative, order chilled Chambery vermouth made in Savoy. It is a
fragrant improvement on the standard blond versions. Pineau
des Charentes has been moving up fast at tonier establishments. One of
France’s happier accidents, it was created in the late sixteenth century when
a cellar worker in the Charente region, where Cognac is made, carelessly poured
partially fermented grape juice into a barrel that still contained some Cognac.
The combination worked, and the French have enjoyed the sweet but piquant
invention, chilled, as an aperitif ever since. Sometimes
the best choice is no choice at all. At L’Impromtu, a bistro in Montreal,
hesitation and doubt are rewarded by the suggestion that you might like to try a
pousse rapiere. Soon a champagne flute appears, filled with bubbling
amber-tinted liquid and long delicate spirals of orange peel. It looks like a
cross between a lava lamp and a tiny aquarium. Time out for a respectful moment
of visual appreciation, then, “cheers”. It is good. Pousse rapiere turns out
to be armagnac and bitter orange liqueur that could be the best thing to hit
champagne since bubbles. Surely another round would be in order. No. A second
aperitif is precisely 10 per cent as enjoyable as the first. Let the moment go.
Time to move on to the wine list. |